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Aug 2013
don't ever think you're the best
until you've climbed a mountain
don't even waste my time
until you've drunk from my fountain
my rhythm, my rhyme
my legend, my crime
innocent as the moon is bold
magnificent as the sea is cold
you cry, you beg
you may even scream
the words pour out of your mouth
like steamy fog
it lingers, it loiters
for corrupted exploiters
tears weep and they crash
out poison and trash
and you have the nerve
to just push me away
through the black and the white
thick and thin shades of gray
you might hear my words
you teach what i preach
but just remember
my voice may be tender
and yours will subside
i'm your last contender
Jeffrey Chamberlain
Written by
Jeffrey Chamberlain  PA, USA
(PA, USA)   
793
 
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